


Mine

by berettajane



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fist Fights, Pining, Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:54:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23368783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berettajane/pseuds/berettajane
Summary: A night out at the bar has Dean realizing his feelings.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & You, Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the picture used

Maybe it’s been a long time on the road, maybe it’s the way your laugh trills through the crowded bar, or maybe it’s just the whiskey, but something about tonight has Dean finally allowing himself to admit his feelings for you, even if it’s only in his thoughts. You always keep his drink full and make sure he doesn’t need anything any time you see him, whether it’s at the bar or the bunker. You make sure to give him space when he needs it and you’re always willing to lend an ear whenever he needs to vent or toss an idea around.

Dean feels his jeans get tight as he watches your hips sway to the music, watching some townie that’s wrapped around your finger, thinking he has a chance with a woman like you. Dean scoffs, knowing that little boy could never handle you. You could snap his neck with your thighs alone. Now, he groans, thinking of your thighs wrapped around his head, locking him in place while he feasts on you like it’s his last meal--a place he’d happily stay until he died. 

You look up, feeling his eyes on you, shooting him a wink over the boy’s shoulder you’re dancing with. You can’t help but smile at the hooded look on his face, which sets fire to your body. 

The kid you’re dancing with leans close to your ear and asks if he can take you home. You laugh. “Thank you, but no thank you. Have a good night, hun,” you smile, patting his shoulder and making your way back to the table. 

“What the fuck? You can’t just lead me on like that and not seal the deal, bitch,” the guy says, grabbing your upper arm and pulling you back against his chest.

“First of all, I didn’t ‘lead you on’; I danced with you. Second, I don’t have to do a damn thing I don’t want to, and I don’t want to go home with you. Third--” you pull away from him just in time for Dean to throw a punch.

“She’s mine,” Dean states, leaning over the townie, who is trying his best to blink the stars out of his eyes. 

“Let’s go home, Dean,” you say, your hand on his chest, turning him toward the door. 

Dean throws some money on the table to take care of your tabs before lacing his fingers with yours and leaving. You can’t help but smile to yourself, feeling the sure grip of his hand in yours, the way you fall into step with one another. He catches your eye, stopping you in the middle of the dirt parking lot. He takes a moment to take in how perfect you look, lit only by the moon, before taking your face in his hand and kissing you deeply.

“Let’s go home, Y/N.”


End file.
